


After Hours

by drcommalfoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Detention, Drunken Kissing, Drunken Shenanigans, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, i should have probably slept on this, why does my ginny lk sound like sarah manning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-11-29 07:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11435730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drcommalfoy/pseuds/drcommalfoy
Summary: Harry tries not to think about why Draco Malfoy seems to be making a effort to reach out to everyone but him. Then drinks are had in Hogsmeade, and alls fair to ease off detention; getting caught snogging in dark corners is better than being caught sneaking back into the castle  drunk  after curfew anyday, right?





	1. drunk cliché

**Author's Note:**

> wow would you look at that shitty title

 

The first time Harry saw Draco Malfoy after the war trials was back on Hogwarts grounds, still in the period of reparations to the castle. He found him near the lake, working (and mostly failing) on smoothing the corner of a huge block of stones.

His back was turned, but Harry could see a drop of sweat running down the side of his face as he repeatedly flicked a dark wand against the stone, cursing colorfully every time it failed him. In his own pocket, Malfoy's wand was vibrating, as if sensing his old master was near.

"Malfoy." Harry called. Malfoy turned back, squinting at him under the sun. He was wearing a normal, muggle t-shirt, face flushed and sweaty, hair matted, soot and dust sticking to... all of him. Harry faintly registered how strange it was seeing him like this, so disheveled but so ... almost healthy, in a way.

"Potter." Malfoy said in a guarded tone, getting up slowly. Harry, with all the grace of a elephant, shoved Malfoy's wand towards him.

"McGonagall said you'd be able to do a better job." Malfoy's gazed dropped to it, hand hovering, reaching towards the wand. Harry's hand started to vibrate too.

"I'm not its master anymore. You won it from me." He said, an undercurrent of bitterness in his tone. Mostly, though, he just sounded tired.

"We can fight over it if you want." Harry said lightly. Malfoy smirked.

"I think punching the boy-who-lived-twice would fit under breaking my parole, somehow. Or is that the intention?" His tone was light and sardonic, his cruel edge seemingly blunted.  

"You're not on parole here anymore. Your mandatory help in the repairs ended last week." _So why are you still here_ ,he didn't say, though he'd asked himself that quite often. As a key witness in the trials Harry knew that Draco's and Narcissa's parole consisted of many kinds of community service and reparations, which Malfoy was serving impeccably, and yet he continued coming back to Hogwarts all the same. He wondered if Healer Gorski, McGonnagall's contracted mind healer on sight, had something to do with it. Malfoy saw her often, he knew. He did too. Malfoy nodded, and then, quite without warning, pushed Harry _hard_ so hard he fell backwards, his back hitting the grass.

He let out a 'oof' as the air was knocked out of him, and Malfoy followed him down, throwing his weight on Harry before he could recover his breath. Harry brought his leg upwards and kicked him on the side, instinct on attack, mind reeling with sudden adrenaline.

The kick sent Malfoy stumbling on his knees and there was crunching sound as his shoulder hit one of the rocks, but as Harry looked at him he was grinning, his wand tight in his own grasp. Harry swallowed, forcing his heart to stop hammering, stomping on the urge to tackle Malfoy in retaliation.

He laughed then, a little startled, running a hand through his hair.

"Wow, ok. I guess that does it." Malfoy was a little wide eyed when he looked back at him. Harry supposed it felt good to have his wand back. He would know. He got up and offered him a hand. Malfoy took it and Harry pulled him to his feet.

"Thank you." He said, very low, almost a murmur, looking down. Harry nodded, letting him go. He looked at Malfoy for a moment, noticing a dark smudge under his jaw and the inprint of his foot in his sweaty shirt. Harry turned and left.  

\--- ---

Draco had returned to Hogwarts to finish his education, as his seventh year had been almost as botched as Harry's, Ron's and Hermione's. To Harry's immense surprise, _Ron_   of all people had acquired a grudging respect for Malfoy after a couple months being assigned his partner in arithmancy.

"He's... been bizarrely tolerable." Ron would say, shrugging. "I think he's trying to make ammends or just.... trying to move on. I mean, we all are right?"He asked.  Harry thought about Malfoy's quiet thank you under the sweltering sun back in july. He nodded.

The last time he'd actually spoken to Malfoy was when he had jumped him over his wand. Harry felt his lips quircking at the memory, then realized what he was doing and promptly pursed his lips.

\--- ---

Harry tried not to wonder why Malfoy seemed to be avoiding him rather intensely. He didn't seem to be doing it to anyone else, even though it got him a black eye many times, as in Neville's case, or just guarded acceptance in Hermione's case, but a strange friendliness in Ron's case and a even stranger actual friendship in Luna's case. He _never_ interacted with Harry unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it, though.

Harry tried not to wonder why he cared, mostly, as much as he tried not to let his eyes track Malfoy whenever he was in the room. 

\--- ---

“We should have gone back ages ago” Hermione remarked rather grumpily, boots sinking into the thick snow. It was cold and wet and darkening and past curfew and this was all Harry’s fault.

“Bullshit!” Harry says through a mouthful of liquor cream pops when she tells him so. “You wanted new quills! and licorice wands! and mead!” He says gleefully, pointing an accusatory finger at her, voice in a octave that affirmed how not-quite sober he was. Ron laughed and nudged her with a hip, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh. Well- ah, shut up” She mumbled, biting back a laugh of her own.

“Besides” Harry started, biting into a pumpkin pie. “We’re going aren’t we? And we have permission.”

“ _Special_ eight year permission” Ron said smugly. “Also where are you even getting those sweets from?” He asked, eyeing Harry’s free hands dumbfoundedly. Harry grinned at him. 

“Must be magic.” Someone drawled behind them. They stopped and turned around. Draco Malfoy trailed behind the three of them, cradling a half empty bottle of cheap firewhiskey in his arms. He lifted his head to meet their gaze and his cheeks coloured, as if he hadn’t realized he had actually said that out loud. He cleared his throat awkwardly after a moment, before nodding in their general direction.

“Uh.. hullo, Malfoy.” Ron started. “What are you doing outside after hours?”

“Im… getting drunk, Weasley. Obviously.” He answered, in a way Harry was sure would sound much more supercillious in his usual drawl then his hazy, drunk-malfoy drawl. Ron snorted.

“Hear, hear.” Harry answered lazily, spontaneously offering Malfoy a licorice wand. Malfoy startled a litte, then looked at it for a moment as though Harry was offering him a pit viper. "'is not poisoned." He murmured, weirdly moody at this reaction. Malfoy reached out tentatively, and bit it slowly, staring at Harry the whole time. Harry raised an eyebrow, beginning to get unnerved.

“Weasley!” Malfoy exclaimed then, suddenly breaking eye contact, walking up to Ron as if he'd just remembered something crucially important. “You… are a decent quidditch player.And you're not as abismal in aris.Arich, _ugh_ ari-th-mancy as you were at the start of term” Ron’s eyebrows raised, amusedly. “Granger.” He said in the same tone, turning to Hermione. “I... admire your capacity for eating text books.” Hermione blinked.

"Did Healer Gorski told you to 'extern good things' again?" Ron asked. Malfoy nodded, a bit too enthusiastically.

Malfoy turned to Harry. A moment passed. Harry waited.

“Yes, lets go back, is pass’ curfew you know.” He slurred after a beat, turning and trecking back to the castle. Harry raised his eyebrows, biting back a childish ‘what about me?!’ at Malfoy’s retreating back.

It was probably the mead talking anyway.

“Oh thanks, it’s not like I ever saved your life or anything.” He mumbled anyway, and yeah it was _definitely_ the mead talking. Malfoy looked at him for a second, blinked his hazy grey eyes, then ignored him and continued walking. Harry scowled.

“Well, this was…weird” Hermione remarked,dragging her eyes from Harry to Malfoy, a curious look in her eyes. Ron snorted. Harry took a swig of one the butterbears he’d brought.

“I know right? Last week in potions, he even gave me back my quill when it fell. It was…bizarre” He said theatrically, almost warmly as they started to follow Draco on the way up towards the castle.

“Did you thank him?” Hermione asked, teasingly bumping Ron with her hip, who’s ears promptly turned pink.

“I can _hear_ you, you know.” Malfoy called back. “And no he didn’t thank me Granger, just so you know. Not even when I saved his disastrous arithmancy calculation mmmisshaps.”

“I... nodded back!” Ron exclaimed, turning redder. Malfoy made a weird pft sound. Hermione rolled her eyes good naturedly. Ron then tickled her. She giggled and swatted at him indignantly, and he proceeded to hug her even tighter. Harry sighed.

“Get a room, you two” Ron waved a hand at him, smiling ruefully.

“Well….” Hermione blushed a admirable shade of red at that.

“Oh sod off, you perverts.” Harry laughed, throwing popcorn at their heads. Hermione shrieked a little, shaking the popcorn off before it got caught on her curls.

“Yes, no one needs to know how’s the gryffindor sex life.” Malfoy agreed, still walking ahead of them without looking back, like a bizarre intruding narrator. Hermione and Ron were so red in the face Harry could see them letting off steam trough their ears any time soon, like a muggle cartoon. Harry couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Well, that’s prude of you, Malfoy. What about inter house collaboration?” Harry said cheekily. He heard Ron choke  behind him; Malfoy ,apparently ,tripped on air and fell face first into a pile of snow in _front_ of him.

Harry barely had the time to register it, as Malfoy jumped up instantly, face flaming and palming snow off of his hair as the three reached him.

“I- that was on purpose.” He said, hastily. 

“Really.” Hermione answered, trying and failing in suppressing a giggle. Malfoy sniffed. Hermione’s giggle turned into laughter and soon Ron and Harry were laughing too. Malfoy’s expression, to Harry’s astonishment turned - sheepish. He bit his cheek, and Ron punched him on the shoulder, a bit too hard to be completely friendly, but definitely warmer than totally sober Ron would dare; or maybe beggining of term Ron would dare.

“Let’s just go back before we get detention.”

 

\--- ---

 

If anyone asked him afterwards, Harry would say that in his hazy brain, it seemed like a very sound idea.

To be fair, the idea that he, Ron, Hermione and _Draco Malfoy_ would be sneaking back into Hogwarts, tipsy and way after curfew was strange on it's own, so it seemed natural his mind also went in strange directions. 

After sneaking back to the castle and only knocking over two armours between the four of them, Harry suggested that Ron and Hermione go back to their dorm, and he’d take Malfoy back to slytherin dungeon, just in case he ran into (another) wall and passed out cold in the middle of a corridor.

Quite honestly, Harry didn’t really know why he _didn’t_ let Malfoy slump in any corner- seemingly in contrary to his behavior all year, suddenly Malfoy couldn't find it in him to shut up. The whole way back he had alternated between leaning obnoxiously on Harry, to jumping up and skiddering away and back again, to holding his hand and squeezing his fingers to telling Harry in detail how bothersome many of his personal traits were.

“And really Potter, why does your hair looks like you’ve just rolled out of bed?” Malfoy was currently telling him, dragging his feet as Harry pulled him by the hand. “It’s quite rude, if you ask me, I mean, it’s typical Potter I think, probably your hair thinks it needs to, i don’t know, win over gravity now or some such rub-b-bish-”

Harry rolled his eyes, vaguely wondering if wizards knew about the concept of gravity in the same way as muggles. As they stepped out of the staircase the sound of a hearty laughter wafted over to them. Malfoy continued his tirade unperturbed, but Harry was immediatly alert. Worried they might be professors doing their rounds, he shoved Malfoy backwards. 

“Hey, dooon’t- rude, Potter-”

“Shh, come here-” Harry was pulling him back in the direction they had just come from, but the stairs had already moved, leaving a gaping emptiness on the floor. There were tapestries to their right and left, the only way free forward, where the voices seemed to be coming from. _Shit._

“And everyone goes on and on and _on_ about your _stupid_ eyes like _whateverr_ , plenty of people have green eyes alright Potter?” Malfoy was babbling, gesticulating wildly, completely unaware of Harry’s growing panic.

“Merlins sagging balls you bloody idiot will you _shut up_ they’re gonna hear us-” He hissed urgently, wishing he'd drank less tonight and that his vision wasn't so hazy.

“Don’t! tell me to shut up, they should hear me talk!” Malfoy exclaimed indignantly, jabbing a finger in Harry’s chest as Harry pushed him behind a tapestry. Harry could hear footsteps closing in. _Fuckfuckfuck._  Malfoy looked up at him, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed, breath stuttering for a second before he resumed his ranting. “And honestly, witch weekly has such bad taste anyway, no journalishtic integri-”

“Oh my fucking god, I swear- will you shut. up.”Harry growled, losing his patience. He meant to, uh, cover Malfoy's mouth or… bash his head into the wall, or _something_ to keep them from being discovered, but somehow his brain misfired and thought (probably due to the drinking. That terrible rotting of the intelect.) that kissing Malfoy was actually, suddenly, a great idea.

Before he could _actually_ process such idea, Harry had pressed Malfoy against the wall and kissed him. It made sense at the time - getting caught snogging in dark corners was better than being caught sneaking back into the castle after hours drunk anyday. Besides it gave Malfoy’s mouth something to do outside of spewing nonsense. It was all a matter of convenience, really.

Malfoy, though- his eyes widened in the most delightfully comic way as Harry rounded on him, his hands ending up pressed against Harry’s chest and stomach, just a bit above his hip, as if he’d planned to hold them between them protectively and was caught midway.

He gasped against Harry’s lips, frozen in surprise for a second – before throwing himself at Harry with such enthusiasm that had Harry nearly reeling backwards, bunching up Harry’s shirt where his palm had been pressed, sliding his other hand across his shoulders to scratch at the nape of his neck. Harry backed him against the wall again, arms tightening around Malfoy’s slim frame, and without really thinking about what he was doing, nipped and licked lightly across Malfoy’s bottom lip.

Malfoy opened his lips almost immediately, with a pliant moan that left Harry giddy and grinning against his mouth. He could only delight on how sober Malfoy would react about being so easy and enthusiastic for Harry. And so sweet – Harry registered somewhat feverishly when Malfoy pulled sharply at his hair, tongue curling against his own – so delicious – Malfoy licked Harry’s bottom lip slowly, eyes half opened and heavy lidded and dark and Harry moaned, suddenly dizzy – so hot – he pushed one of his legs between Malfoys, who arched against him, gasping as Harry kissed his way down his jaw, nipping at the taut cords of his neck and fuck, well _fuck_ –

“M-malfoy, wait, wait a minute we should, ah, we should” Harry whispered, pushing himself off of Draco.  Malfoy looked back at him, lips swollen and pupils blown. Harry’s stomach tightened. He'd make Draco look that... _wrecked_. 

  
And then untightened as he remembered Malfoy was already halfway there without him at all what with downing what smelled like half that bottle of firewhiskey, honestly.

“Maybe we should, uh, slow down”

“Hmm,” Malfoy interrupted him. “No, thanks.” And Malfoy was kissing him again. Harry moaned despite himself, wanting nothing but let himself get swept up in sensation, stay there and let Draco do whatever he wanted with him, to climb inside him and curl inside his ribs and learn what made him tick, learn what made him gasp in pleasure and in innocent delight alike.

Thickly, trough a fog of arousal, Harry registered that _maybe_ he was getting carried away – but then Malfoy pushed him against the stone, scraping his nails sharply against his abs and and his teeth against his throat, and it got very hard to think coherently. Harry gasped for air, over heated, but Draco crowded him, sucking at his pulse point hard, licking and kissing as if he found Harry delicious and Harry could barely suppress the sounds he was making as he shivered, trapped between the cold stone and Malfoy’s warm body.

  
“Wait Malfoy we-“

  
“Hmm?”

  
“You’re drunk. We can’t – I can’t –“

  
“Of couuurse we can. You’re my dream.”

  
“What?” Malfoy huffed against his jaw as if Harry was being incredibly obtuse.

  
“You. Are a fimin- er, figsmint. Fig-mm-men-t of mine, idiot. Very alike the real one, no need for the noble thing, though.” Draco slurred, kissing the corner of his lips. Harry felt weirdly thorn between pleased and disappointed that Malfoy thought he’d dreamt this all up.Harry’s hand curled at his hips pushing him away, however feebly, but holding on. Malfoy made no move to grab him again, just blinked at Harry owlishly, licking his lips. Harry looked away clearing his throat.

And then promptly let out a high pitched shriek as he looked up to find Professor Sinistra and Professor Slughorn by the tapestry staring at them.

“WHAT WHAT WHERES THE FIRE” Malfoy immediatly yelled, hugging him absurdly tight.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy.” Professor Sinistra announced, as if they had met in the classroom.

“Well, well, boys. Boys, boys, boys.” Professor Slughorn started. “This is a bit of a awkward situation huh?” Malfoy gasped behind him.

“Uh, p-professor, I can explain.” Harry said, and proceeded to not explain anything. His brain was still somewhat fuzzy from the drinks and the cold and the snogging Draco Malfoy ordeal,who was currently still wrapped around him, so Harry thought it understandable that he was having a hard time thinking of something to say. What was that, about being caught snogging being better than drinking … ?

Professor Slughorn sighed heavily and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Harry my boy, don't fret, we would never punish you for your heart.” He said earnestly. Harry gaped.

“We would, however, punish you both for being out of bed after curfew.” Professor Sinistra added, looking at them with a detached sort of interest. Malfoy made a pitiful ‘oh’ sound behind him, and Harry bit his lip to suppress a smile.

“I understand, Professor.” He said in his most earnest voice, praying Malfoy wouldn't say something that would give them away. She nodded.

“Your detentions, however, can be discussed tomorrow." She said in a softer tone. "You both should return to your common rooms now.” Draco sighed loudly, with the air of someone who was enduring a great annoyance, stepping away from the tapestry and stopping a few feet away in front of a statue. Harry’s mouth dropped as he realized they had been only steps away from the slytherin common room the whole time. His face burned in embarrassment.

Malfoy stared at the statue, as Harry, Slughorn and Sinistra stared at him, expectantly. Then he sighed again, turning to them and grabbing Harry’s wrist.

“Can’t I take him with me?” He asked. Harry’s heart did a funny thing, but, ha _n o_ he thought eloquently as he swallowed down that feeling immediatly.

“I’m afraid that can’t be arranged, Mr. Malfoy.” Slughorn said in a amused tone.

“ You’d better go inside Draco; your friends are there, yeah?” Harry said, stepping closer to him. From the corner of his eye, he saw that Slughorn and Sinistra were discreetly looking the other way.

“Hm. Yes. My friends. “ Malfoy furrowed his brow as if processing a particularly hard question. “My fri-en-ds. My buddies. My palsssss” He half hissed, half slurred, allongating the vocals. Harry raised his eyebrows. He better get Malfoy inside before he gave himself away.

“Uh. Right. So, they’ll take care of you, right?” _Wasn’t meant to be a question_ , his brain supplied dryly. Harry ignored it.

“Not as well as you would, I bet” Malfoy murmured, lips brushing against Harry’s earlobe. Feeling himself blush and suppressing a pained groan, half embarassed in thinking two of his professors definetly heard that and half unwillingly turned on, Harry laughed, a smidge hysterically.

“I can’t imagine how much you’re gonna regret this tomorrow.” He whispered in Malfoys ear. _If you remember it at all._

“Not nearly as much as you’d imagine.” Malfoy whispered back, brushing his lips against Harry’s again in the lightest kiss, eyes open and wide and staring straight at Harry.

Harry just cleared his throat again, pulling back. Malfoy gave him a minute sigh and a quite unabashed once over, before turning to the stone.

Then he turned around, eyes narrowed. “Cover your ears.”

“What?” Harry asked, taken aback.

“Not gonna go ‘round telling Harry Potter our password, ok? Shut your ears.” Suppressing a smile, Harry did as told, and after a second, Malfoy turned back, stumbling slightly.

“New horizons” Malfoy mumbled, very clearly through Harry’s half heartedly clenched hands. The stone moved and he all but fell into the slytherin common room. Harry stared as the stone closed after him, brow furrowed, and only _just_ stopped himself from collapsing against the wall behind him.

Confused and unwillingly endeared and honestly, really fucking turned on and so bloody embarrassed, he began to thread miserably back to Gryffindor Tower, trying his damndest hard not to look Professor Sinistra in the eye, or think too hard about any of the events of the evening.

 


	2. Blanket\Kick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco thinks too much, runs too much, faces too little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blanket Kick is a song by BTS. It's the cutest, most passive agressive song about having a crush ever, so I thought it'd fit nicely for draco and harry.

It was monday and Draco didn't have any early morning classes.

His body no longer protesting the amount of alcohol he'd ingested during the weekend, he felt warm and cozy and mashed his head to the pillow, pretending he wasn't hearing his roommates getting ready for their own classes.

He let his thoughts drift, willing sleep to overcome him again, revelling in the warmth of his blanket...

 _"What about inter house collaboration?"_ Potter's voice echoed in his brain, his tone lilting, cheeky, inviting, smiling openly at him in his minds eye.

 _"They'll take care of you, right?"_ He spoke again, eyes wide with concern, lips swollen from kissing and Malfoy groaned into the pillow willing the memories away for the upteenth time.

" _Not as well as you would I bet."_ He remembered himself saying, _ridiculous and stupid ugh why would you why why,_ and a hot surge of embarrassment washed over him, his hands shrinking, his feet kicking his blanket at he wished he'd been able to kick his own mouth shut. White hot embarrassment flooded through him, at the memories of how he clung to Potter, the things he said, how he jumped him as soon as he had the chance-

“Argh!” Draco growled, punching, grappling at his blanket, willing his frustration and his embarrassment away, kicking the poor fabric until his legs were as tangled as his brain felt. He couldn't stop thinking about saturday, about Potter, about those kisses. He wanted to crawl under his bed and never get out, he wanted to never drink again, he wanted to never look at Harry Potter's face, he wanted to grab Potter and kiss him and kiss him and kiss him.

All in all, it wasn’t much different than any other day of the year, honestly.

He had been so careful, ever since they came back to school, to avoid Potter as much as he could; it was just; without his gut instinct to tell to anyone and everyone who cared to hear about how much he hated Potter and everything that had to do with him, Draco had come to the terrifying conclusion that he didn’t hate Harry Potter. In fact, it was increasingly hard to pretend he didn’t like very, _very_ many things about Harry Potter.

Healer Gorski had advised him many times about trying to talk to Potter, as he’d been such a ‘fixed point of obsession and change in his life’, (her words; Draco wouldn’t call it a _obsession_ , as such) .Draco thought about how he had followed her advice before, and how now could say he found a friend in Lovegood, and a partnership with Weasley of all people, and how it felt like… winning.

But there was just too much about Potter that made Draco feel confused, jittery, distressed. Because - Potter had saved his life and testified at his trial and given his wand back and kept his mum out of jail; Draco owed him so much. But Potter also always, _always_ beat him at quidditch and ruined his plans and sliced him open and made him feel pathetic and pranced around the school with his friends and his fans, and Draco hated that he owed his school rival anything at all. He felt resentful that Potter was such a stark reminder of every wrong choice he’d ever made- and so tremously, pathetically thankful that he hadn’t thought Draco deserved to die in a cursed fire because of them. He wanted Potter’s admiration and attention, always had, and he despised himself for it. He envied his power, his fame and his ability to refuse to take any shit from anyone.

And he noticed, he noticed _so much_ , the sharp line of his jaw and the glint in his eyes when he was being cheeky, his embarrassed flush when someone complimented him,how his face looked when his friends made him laugh and the tense line of his shoulders when he was faced with pain, how Witch Weekly was right (ugh) about his stupid face and how stupidly handsome it was and Draco _hated_ this unwanted, pathetic, inconvenient, obvious... _crush._

 _"Ughh."_ The very word made Draco cringe. A crush on Potter. How pitiful.

This wasnt Lovegood, or Longbottom or even Weasley or Granger. He didn't just want to make ammends with Potter, he wanted, he wanted-

He _wanted._

And he didn't think his ego could handle when Potter didn't want him back. And, yeah, he had kissed him (it still sent a shiver down his back. Potter had kissed _him_ ) but they were drunk, and kissing was still not wanting of the same kind Draco suffered. After all, he was the actual damn savior of the wizarding world, who had war hero friends that didn’t need to forgive him for being a bloody terrorist and fans that hung on his every word. Why would he? 

It was just par of the course, then, that Draco would have made a right tit of himself in front of Potter, all but confessing to him. He had fallen on his _face_ in front of him, by Minerva, and  _told_ him he had dreamt of kissing him before. He shoved his pillow into his face.

He had really  _snogged Potter_.

Just outside the common room too, _and_ got caught.

Caught pressing Potter against the wall, feeling up his abs as he gasped when Draco kissed his neck…

Draco shot up in his bed, dumping his blanket on the floor and trying his hardest to interrupt that train of thought. There was nothing to it, he might as well get ready for the day.

Starting with a cold shower.

 

\--- ---

 

Turns out in the winter the showers were magicked to never go any temperature below lukewam, and as such Draco was provided no reprieve or distraction from the memories of Potter's hands on him, Potter's lips on his, Potter's body under his hands, Potter's moans when Draco touched him. Draco stood under the hot sluice of water for what felt like a century, trying to distract his mind and will his hard on away, but in the end finally gave up wanking himself furiously, shame and arousal pulling him up and down, and came hearing Potter's voice gasping his name in his memories. 

 

He burst into the Charms class late, still flushed, hair damp, chest heaving. Flitwick nodded him along with only a disapproving stare. 

Draco caught Potter's eyes in the back of the classroom for a second, looked hastily away, and found the farthest seat in the room. 

 

He thought he saw Potter trying to get his attention at the end of the class, but he hurried past, pushing people aside in his haste to leave the class. He thought he might have seen him scowl.

  
Draco wasn’t hiding, he argued with himself. Visiting the library was just the logical thing to do in between classes. It was his last year after all, and his grades needed to be stellar if he ever wanted anyone to look beyond his past as a death eater.

So maybe he was holed up in the last shelf of the library, pretending to be terribly interested in 1001 Magical Properties of Wart Skin, but oh. Well.

“Gross,” He mumbled, turning the corner, almost colliding with the suddenly materialized form of Harry Potter.

“What the fu-?” Draco screeched. “What the bloody hell are you _doing”_ He hissed, heart in his throat. He saw Potter shoving something into his backpack quickly. His curiosity prickled, wondering if that might be his famed invisibility cloak but Draco held back and bit his tongue.

“Malfoy.” Potter said, with a cross expression. "Stop avoiding me." He accused, without preambles. Draco spluttered, feeling rather like a deer caught under wand light. 

“Um,” He said intelligently, leaning against the shelf. For support. Potter looked at him flatly, as if daring him to deny anything.

He was never good at turning down Potter, as it were. “I’m _not_. I-” Potter scoffed, looking away. Draco sucked in a breath, trying his hardest to make his next words as sneering as he could. “Not everyone wants to lick at your heels, Potter.”

 Potter’s eyes snapped back to his, flashing.

“No, you sure seemed to like licking my neck better.” He shot back, stepping closer with an angry expression. Draco blushed bright red, grtting his teeth, willing his anger to trample down the surge of attraction in the pit of his stomach. 

"Is there any actual reason why you're here?" He asked, in poorly concealed irritation. Potter glared at him some more, eyes wide and green and stormy, and very  _unecessary_ memories, of Potter close and hazily kissed out, assault him. Draco looks away, mentally bludgeoning the memories down. He hears Potter sigh. 

"We have detention tonight. 7 o'clock, in the potions dungeons." He mumbled moodily, a petulant lilt to his voice. Draco looks at him despite his resolve not to, trying to stop his lips from twitching. 

"Alright." He breathed, and Potter raised his eyes to meet his again. They'd gotten really close, both of them leaning against the book shelves, face to face. Draco can't for the life of him stop his eyes from fluttering downwards, to Potter's lips, his jaw, his neck-

Draco stops and does a double take, because. Potter's _neck -_ is exposed, a collection of deep purple bruises littered there, starting in his jaw and disappearing down his collar, for anyone to see.

"Potter!" He exclaimed, faintly scandalized. “Why didn’t you cover that _up_ ” Draco hissed, slapping his hand against the side of Potter’s neck in a  attempt to... what? _Shield_ the bruises? He scoweled at himself, immediatly feeling silly. Potter’s eyes widened for a moment, but he relaxed against Draco’s hand, a grin spreading on his face in a sudden change of mood. 

“I think it's too late to clutch your pearls, Malfoy. Everyone saw the the state you left me in to go back to the common room saturday," He shrugged, pushing his glasses further up his nose, a sly look on his face "covering it would have been pretty pointless.” . Draco’s heart thudded almost painfully, eyes widening at the implications of that. 

" _Everyone saw_  ?" He mouthed, some weird cross between smugness and horror blooming in his chest.  

 His hand convulsed, unconsciously tightening around Potter, whose eyes glazed over ever so slightly. Draco swallowed, transfixed.

“You were in your dorm all day yesterday. ” Potter said in a rough voice.

 _Yeah_ , _kicking my poor blankets around and thinking about you_. Draco frowned inwardly at such sappy nonsense. And outwardly at Potter. 

“Hiding.” Potter said, his like he was trying and failing to make it light. Draco could feel his throat moving under his fingers. Which made him acutely realize his fingers were still _on_ Potter's throat, and he hastily jumped back. 

“Potter.” Draco said, in a voice a little desperate, unintentionally pleading. Potter's eyes widened a bit, his expression clearing. Draco cleared his throat. "I have... class now." Potter stared at him some more.

"Right. Ok." He said, sounding odd. "I'll see you in detention then." The way he said it made it sound strangely challenging. Which made no sense. It was just a fact. Of course they'd see each other in detention.

Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously. 

"Right. See you."

"See you." Potter nodded. 

"See _you_." Draco glared. Potter bit his cheek, like he was trying not to smile.

Draco didn't see what was funny. He would have told Potter exactly that, but decided against it. Potter had gotten him in enough trouble as it were. 

                                                        --- ---

 

Harry took it all into account -  Draco's eagerness in responding to his kiss, then avoiding him all over again, that hand in throat (hadn't _that_ been a surprise to himself), his pleading voice, his mind flying in so many directions. 

He remembered how it felt to see Malfoy coming in to class that morning, looking fresh, damp, flushed, how his stomach jumped at _finally_ seeing him again. 

And then Malfoy all but ran away from him. 

Harry could barely hide how upset he was. Ron and Hermione had thrown him furtive, worried looks all day, but he just needed to deal with this himself. He didn't think he could handle Malfoy going back to pretending he didn't exist without even knowing why. Not after saturday.

Maybe he was being egocentric; Maybe Malfoy simply did not want Harry at all. Maybe he did regret the whole thing.  _Not nearly as much as you'd imagine._ But maybe, just maybe, that wasn't it. 

Harry wanted to know. He just wanted to make sense of the jumble in his feelings Malfoy had made in him. If Malfoy did not want to ever look at his face again, he could just say so already and Harry would leave him alone. For good or for worst, Harry would make Malfoy _talk_ to him.

He had a plan. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did i really just use 'you liked licking my neck better' as a dramatic phrase


	3. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (tm)

“That’s a shit plan.” Ginny said, eyebrow raised. Harry spluttered in indignation.

“She’s right, Harry.” Luna nodded agreeably, while being disagreeable. “I’m sure kissing him again would make you feel quite content-” Harry flushed bright red, (that's _not_ what the plan is) suddenly very interested in the lints on his trousers. “But your problem seems to be that Draco won’t talk to you. I understand, he can be quite the hungarian wronfty crab when he wants to.“ She said seriously. Ginny and Harry blinked at each other.

“And… what’s that mean, babe?” Ginny asked, with fond curiosity.

“Hard headed.” Luna answered simply.

“But how can I make him talk to me if I don’t even know why he doesn’t want to?” Harry said, trying hard to keep the whine out of his voice. By the way they both were smiling at him like he was a puppy who’d just sneezed, Harry was quite sure he failed. “Maybe he really was just drunk. Maybe he still hates me. I should just leave him alone.” He mumbled, anxiety rattling in his chest. Maybe he had misinterpreted everything… Malfoy was probably trying to get rid of him back at the library, and he was just making everything worst, overstepping boundaries-

“Harry.” Ginny said, eyes turning soft. “You’ll never know for sure if you don’t _try_ talking to him. Yeah, setting a dung bomb distraction to lure Slughorn away and trap him in the detention room with you is a bit much”

“Well, when you say it like _that_ ” Harry grumbled.

“But,” Ginny continued, ignoring him. “We’re not saying you should give up. Just… don’t back him into a corner. Shifty people hate that and merlin knows malfoy is a shifty git.” Luna nodded gravely.

“Maybe buy him some apple cider. He likes apple ciders.” Did he? Harry hadn't known that. He slumped in his chair dejectedly, blowing the hair out of his eyes.

\-- --

“Here are your needed tools!” Slughorn said, handing them both buckets and rags. “We want these trophies spotless! Your wands will be returned to you after the detention is done, so you better not get distracted, hmm” He gave them a jaunty wink and turned to walk away. Harry gaped. He could not believr that fate was actually being kind towards him. He could have kissed professor Slughorn in thanks. And then Malfoy spoke up.

“What, you’re just going to leave us here alone?” He exclaimed, almost scandalized. _Yes, please_ , Harry willed silently.

“Oh Draco, my dear boy, I too have been young and virile” Slughorn says indulgently, waving Malfoy's complaints away. Harry needs to try very, very hard not to laugh at Draco’s expression. “I am confident you both will fulfill your detentions accordingly on your own.” After a pause, he added in a softer voice. “I’m glad your taste in company seems to be improving, Draco.” Draco spluttered and stared, well after the door had closed behing the professor; Harry couldn’t quite read the expression on his face.

“Um” He started awkwardly. Draco looked back at him, as if suddenly startled by his presence in the room.

_Why did you run away from me?_

_Why did you kiss me back?_

_Do you wanna go drink some apple cider one of these days?_

“I’ll start by this side.” He mumbled, turning away before Malfoy could notice the blush dusting his cheeks. The trophy room was narrow enough that Harry could feel Malfoy as he sat opposite him, hear the scraping of the rags on gold. He took a deep breath. Draco was here, with him, alone. Just like he'd planned. (Minus his actual plan, but he pushed that thought aside) He had died once, for Morgana's sake. He could talk to Draco bloody Malfoy.

Harry took a deep breath.

“Malfoy” He started. Malfoy groaned. Harry felt slightly offended.

  
“Oh, Merlin. Listen, Potter” Draco interrupted, sounding like there was nothing he'd rather do than _not_ talk. “I don’t know if this is your… hero thing or whatever, but you don’t... need to do this.” Harry furrowed his brows in confusion, turning to face him.

"My...  hero thing?" Draco didn't meet his eyes, fixed studiously on the trophy in his lap. 

“It was a quick way to get us a lighter punishment, quick thinking; you’re sorry. I get it. No…” He faltered, and looked at Harry then, but his mouth was twisted in the cruel sneer Harry had never even registered he hadn't seen in years. “You’re not obliged to act as my nanny now, all right?”

Harry just stared at him for a moment, before bursting into laughter. 

“I’m , no- Malfoy," It came out breathless amidst his giggles "you think I’d talk to _you_ out of obligation?” It was only after the words left his mouth that Harry realized how they sounded. Malfoy smiled, all teeth, no mirth.

“Right, exactly.” 

“No!” Harry groaned, pinching his eyes and dislodging his glasses in the process. “I’m getting this all wrong.” He shuffled closer on his knees. “I just meant-”

"Whatever, Potter." Malfoy sneered, getting up. "I don't care." 

"Wh-where are you going? We're in detention"

Malfoy rounded him. " _I don't care_ " He hissed, eyes flashing much more upset than he seemed a minute ago and Harry, well. Clearly, he wasn't very good at thinking things through when Draco was around, but he was leaving again and he wasn't going to listen, _again_ , and it was only after he and Malfoy fell tangled in the ground that he realized what he was doing.

“Did you just- _tackle me_?” Malfoy squawked from underneath him, voice muffled by the stone floor. 

“W-well, only a little" Harry stammered, embarassment clouding his vision enough that he didn't see Draco's lunge coming untill he was pushed out from his spot above Draco's ass, back colliding painfully with the edge of a medal case, but he managed to grab a handful of Draco's robes and pull him down with him. "you wouldn’t - will you just- stop kicking me Draco,  _listen"_

"Listen to _what_ " Malfoy spat, shoving him harder against the floor, planting himself firmly above Harry's stomach. Harry swallowed, trying not to pay attention to their current position and how it made him feel."Your stupid gryffindor honourable let down because of an embarassing crush? I'm not one your simpering fans, I don't need your pity and let me tell you, you're making it _quite easy to get over it!_ " Draco snarled, breath short, hair a mess, cheeks red. Harry stared. He stared as Malfoy stared back and continue to stare unto the moment Malfoy blanched, color leaving him entirely. 

A _crush._

Malfoy eyes widened in horror, scrambling to get out of his position above him.

A crush? But if Malfoy had a crush, that meant...

"N-no, that's not what I mean, shit, Potter-"

"Let's drink apple cider" Harry said in a rush.

"I - what?!" 

"Let's... let's go drink apple cider together." He said again, clutching Draco's hands. Draco stared at him as if he'd grown a second head. "I _don't_ want to let you down, I want to get to know you. I've been trying to figure out why you'd been, you'd been... well trying it with, _everyone_ but me and then saturday you were, you know, but then today you still didn't want to talk to me and I, well I" He trailed off, flushing at the weight of Draco's gaze on him. He cleared his throat. "I'll stop babbling, if you would say something right about now." He mumbled, weakly. Draco stared at him some more, and then kissed him. Then he pulled back, hand over his lips as if he'd done something awful, and that just couldn't stand so Harry kissed _him_ instead _._

He could say he was nowhere near as surprised as he should have been to realize he'd missed kissing Draco Malfoy.

 _"_ Alright." Draco said, pulling away and breathing sharply. "But only because I like apple ciders so much." Harry huffed out a breath against Draco's jaw, aware of his heart giddily throwing itself against his ribcage. 

"Mmhmm" He sighed as Draco's fingers tangled in his hair.

"Oh, my." Slughorn said from the doorway. Harry let his head fall onto Draco's shoulder with a pained groan. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh its been a month im sorry ive accidentally fallen down the yuri on ice hole! this is only barely edited since im rly tired, but i just wanted to post it so i'll probably proof read it later so . yes. im sorry, But! I hope you've enjoyed this little story! lbr draco we all know you are a potter fan

**Author's Note:**

> i have a sneaking suspicion this reads like a very patchy story, since it was meant to be a short thing and i got a little carried away, but i cant look at it anymore it needs to be out there. this might get edited later, and also will probably be continued? idk. any feedback is appreciated.  
> come talk to me on tumblr


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